A Claim on Klondyke Part 2

"Why, darn me, if you hain't got every pack just right!" and he lifted one or two. "50 lb. each, I reck'n?"

We said that was so, and that each man could carry two; and as we had exactly 800 lb. of grub, and about 200 lb. weight of tent, blankets, and cooking gear and tools, we considered it would take just about twelve Indians to do what was required comfortably.

"Gee-rusalem!" cried our new acquaintance; "'n you're fixed to pay 140 dollars for this yere job?"

"Oh yes, we can," I replied; "but it seems these Indians around are idle--can't it be done for less?"

"Idle!--Great Scot!" he yelled with laughter. "Why, stranger, they're a restin'--you bet they need it. Hold on till you see the kind o'

journey they've got to make--lor! and you too--you stop till you've felt fifty, 'n mebbe a hundred pounds o' pack on your backs, 'n then I guess you'll think them 140 dollars ain't so easy airned. These yere Si-washes ain't like them red fellers of the plains--nossir. These work, they do; m--m--I guess so. You pay me that 140 dollars, 'n I guess all will go slick."

A few dollars one way or the other were no particular consequence to us, and we thought it wiser to keep dark, so we agreed; at which the boss, calling to an Indian, took him aside.

Ten minutes after there was excitement in the camp. From listless, silent logs, the whole tribe woke up, and from that moment showed of what stuff they were made. We learnt from the boss what our route would be after reaching Lake Tagish. He told us about Miles Canon and the White Horse Rapids, which he a.s.sured us were the only real difficulties we had to face. He advised us to hire an Indian to go with us who knew the way to the foot of the White Horse, anyway.

The Stick (Stickeen) Indians are an avaricious people, they are shrewd and tricky, a good match for whites at bargains, and will do anything for money, which they know the value of right well. They are fine strapping fellows, and are proud to tell you they are "aller same King George man"--_i.e._, Englishmen; but I believe they say to Yankees that they are "aller same Boston man," which means Americans. They are evidently pretty deep, have a great love for tobacco and all intoxicants, and every beverage that possesses a "tang." They are supposed to be diminishing in numbers rapidly--there were thought to be only about one thousand left of them then.

It was sixty-five miles from Skagway to the Windy Arm of Lake Tagish, we were told, and that if we averaged ten miles a-day we should do well.

Within an hour our march began--that is, our Indians loaded four canoes with our packs; then we paddled six miles up-stream, landed, and camped for the night.

Our men were cheery; some spoke the Chinook jargon,--"the trade language of the Pacific coast,"--a few knew a little English. One who appeared to be their head man knew most, and he attached himself closely to us, cooked and helped us. It was our policy to appear "green," and this man, believing it was our first night in the bush, showed us how to manage. He called himself Jim Crow; this name had been given him by some facetious countryman of ours.

Starting at six the following morning, we soon understood what packing over the White Pa.s.s meant. There was a trail, sure enough; it consisted of a path winding through thick forest, up steep and rocky hills, some of them almost perpendicular; across swift running brooks, and beds of spongy moss--up to one's waist in places. There were clumps of coa.r.s.e gra.s.s, thickets of brambles and the terrible devil's club thorn; so, before we had gone a couple of miles, we were satisfied that every cent we paid these Indian packers was well "airned" indeed.

For ourselves, it was all we could do to get on, carrying only our guns, and a small shoulder-bag with a little grub; whilst our boys plodded on, grunting but cheery, with their one hundred pounds apiece.

As we ascended gradually, we realised that it was becoming colder. We had not done three miles by noon when we came to snow. Jim Crow--Jim is what we called him of course--ordered a halt, and said they were well pleased,--that it was probably snow in the pa.s.s; some of them would go ahead without burdens and investigate--if so, they would return for sledges, "sleds"; they were very happy at this prospect.

Accordingly two men went on. We rested, boiled some tea, and ate. In a couple of hours they returned, and had a pow-wow, resulting in some of them starting back to Skagway, whilst our tent was erected, a huge camp-fire built, and we prepared to pa.s.s the night, as Jim told us it would be too late when they returned with sleds to push on. We were somewhat annoyed at what we thought delay, but he a.s.sured us this plan would shorten the journey greatly.

It was midnight when they returned. They brought five sleds. On these, next day--which was hot and the snow was melting--all our goods were lashed, and that evening, when the crust upon the snow was frozen, we were off.

Our route lay up a shelving mountain-side overlooking a deep canon.

Snow-capped ranges and many small glaciers were constantly in sight across the valley, and every depression, on our side, held a trickling rivulet, a roaring stream, or more frequently a mora.s.s, knee-deep in moss and sodden gra.s.ses. The snow was not deep, but it was soft and slushy--the travelling was terrible, yet in spite of all we made what Jim called "good time."

It was noon next day ere we reached the timber line, and all above this was open and rocky. The snow was heavier here; in the shade it was frozen solid; the sleds travelled over it easily. Meade and I had all we could do to keep up with them; indeed we had let them get some distance ahead at one time, and when we caught them they were camped beside a great rock with stunted trees about it, and Jim said that we were very near the summit.

We camped that night in considerable comfort,--it was dry and cold, but having good blankets and plenty of fuel, Meade and I were cosy enough.

Our Indians made shelters of sticks and brushwood and thin blankets, and built a huge fire. They played "poker"; their "chips" were beans.

An immense amount of snow falls on these coast ranges; luckily we had none during our crossing--neither did it rain, which was wonderful.

Now, as to this White Pa.s.s ever being made the highway to the Yukon, I must say a few words. The trail as it then existed was absolutely impracticable for horses--it was all that men could do to clamber up it, and we realised that with much traffic, even of human beings, it would quickly become impa.s.sable, and yet Meade and I felt confident that with comparatively little work and some engineering skill a road, and some day even a railroad, could be made across it. Most of the runs of water could be bridged easily, in the rough way which is the custom in the wilds. Many of the mora.s.ses, we could see, could be drained by a few gutters cut with a spade. There being such a slope it was easy to run water off, and where that was impossible log causeways--corduroys--could be built with no great trouble, for logs were plentiful for the cutting. It was possible to wind round most of the rocks, and a few pounds of dynamite or giant powder would quickly clear the impa.s.sable ma.s.ses. Certainly when we crossed it was terrible enough; but yet we plainly saw that a good road, fairly easy to traverse by horses, even with loaded waggons, was certain ere long to exist there.

If it should be proved that gold was plentiful in the Yukon country,--"Undoubtedly," we said, "before two years are past there will be a fine road here," and as to the gold--well, we had reason to be very sure about that.

From this camp the trail led up a narrow and precipitous defile until the actual summit was reached. We were then at least fifteen miles from Skagway, and near three thousand feet above tide-water.

From here there was a sheer descent of many feet to a lake--Summit Lake. It was frozen solid. The Indians a.s.sured us it was always frozen--that the snow never left its margin. At one point the ice overlapped the edge, forming a small glacier. A few yards below it was thawing. At some far distant day a great glacier had been there, for a canon had been formed, and down it, beside the rushing stream of white water, our course lay. Mountains rose high around us, covered with ever-lasting snow.

Gradually the snow on our course disappeared and the sleds became useless, and Jim a.s.sured us that for the rest of the journey to Windy Arm packing must be resorted to. Therefore next morning the sleds were cached, and we started on our weary tramp.

Everything was frozen solid still, for it was not yet May. The travelling was exceedingly arduous,--not that there were any mountains to traverse or swamps to push through; it was simply a rough rock-strewn country, spa.r.s.ely covered with scraggy trees, mostly pines and spruces, with bushes which we thought were willows, and long coa.r.s.e gra.s.s.

We had five days of this, and then we reached the Windy Arm, and the Indians' contract was completed. We had come about sixty-five miles from Skagway.

It was still winter here: there was no open water, the woods were full of snow, which had been long since driven by strong winds from the open; it was a bleak and dreary outlook. Around the lake most of the timber had been fired, gaunt grey sticks alone were standing, and the ground was covered with half-burned logs and branches. Of fuel there was no lack. We made camp in the only close clump of living trees about. We put our tent up securely, made ourselves comfortable, for we knew we must stay on there and by some means build a boat or raft, and wait for the ice to break up. Thus our object was gained in reaching that spot, and we were ready to avail ourselves instantly of the open water, and to pursue our journey.

The Indians had behaved so exceedingly well that I proposed, and Meade agreed, to give them each a dollar.

Through Jim we signified our intention: he made them clearly understand that this was "potlach"--that is, a present. It gave great satisfaction, and when we added a plug of tobacco to each man, there was rejoicing in the camp.

We had taken quite a liking to Jim. He was seemingly proud to be more noticed by us than the others. He was an exceedingly handy fellow, and so far as we could make out from his very peculiar English and Chinook, he knew all about the route we had to follow, and was an experienced boatman. He had "shot" the Grand Canon twice, and knew the way to get past the White Horse Rapids. He was apparently about five-and-twenty, a tall, athletic fellow, and with us very bright and talkative, although with his fellows he was taciturn. Like them he was keen after money, yet did not appear to realise that we were going up to where we hoped it would be plentiful. It is difficult to understand an Indian's apathy on this matter--along the Fraser, at Cariboo, and even in Alaska, they will work at washing gold, and seem quite satisfied to make a dollar or two a-day; but to undertake any plan for making a big lot at once they have no notion. It is perhaps because the idea of acc.u.mulating anything is not an Indian's nature.

Meade formed the idea that it would be well to induce this fellow to go with us to Lake La Barge. With this intent we plied him with information about gold, a.s.suring him that, if he went with us, he would get plenty, so that he could return to the coast a rich man. This prospect had no charms for him, yet he liked the idea of the trip, and said that if we would pay him "ikt dolla la sun"--that is, in plain English, one dollar a-day--he would go; but when he added that he must bring his klootchman, his wife, with him, I was taken aback. Meade, however, was in favour of it--he considered it would be an additional inducement for Jim to stay, that she would probably be useful, and no trouble to us.

He questioned the fellow closely as to her age, her abilities; and he made us understand that she was young, could cook and paddle well, speak English, and would "mamook elan wash pil chickamin," which meant that she would help wash for gold. Her name, he announced, was f.a.n.n.y; and Meade confided to me that he had a particular liking for that name, so we were induced to enter into the arrangement.

About "muck a muck"--_i.e._, food--Jim said they would provide themselves; that he would go back to Skagway with the party and bring his wife out, and a load of all they needed, in six "la suns," six days. All that he stipulated for was that we should have nothing to do with Tagish Indians and that he should have "plenty 'bacca."

Of this we had a good supply; but thinking it would be no harm to have still more, we sent a little "chit" by him to Boss Parkinson, telling him how we had got on, and begging him to send out to us by Jim, if he discovered that they really meant to come with us, another dozen pounds of that fascinating weed.

The following day the band left us, and Meade and I were left alone in our glory.

CHAPTER II.

Meade and I were by this time great friends: our tastes and aims were exactly alike--it was very nice. We had mutual acquaintances in England--we were the best of companions.

In our tent, with our sheet-iron stove going, our beds of thick layers of sweet-scented spruce twigs on rubber ground-sheets, with plenty of good blankets, we were quite cosy, and we had a few books with us.

Our surroundings were gloomy and uninteresting enough--just a dreary rock-strewn waste. Here and there were patches of faded gra.s.s, flattened by the snow which had covered it for months. A few gnarled and twisted cedars and spruces still grew about there; but gaunt, black-b.u.t.ted, dead pine-trees, their tops whitened by the frost and wind, were everywhere--the dry bones of the forest. The frozen lake and the coast range close behind us, the mountains to right, left, and ahead, were snow-covered and dismal, and there was no sign of life, no trace of a living creature.

It rained steadily for two days, and as it was freezing hard at the same time, everything was encased in ice. On the third day the clouds were scattered, and each twig and leaf and blade flashed and sparkled gloriously in the brilliant sun-rays. This only lasted a few hours, for the heat of the sun being great, this beautiful scene was soon spoiled. However, we hoped that a few such days would make havoc with the ice upon the lake, and we should have open water. But this was not to be just yet, for on the fourth day it blew hard from the east, and that night it snowed again and froze as hard as ever.

"On time," as Yankees say, Jim and his wife arrived: they came bounding along the trail, full of glee,--we thought them like children coming home from school. Jim was most voluble; a stream of the best English he knew, and jargon, fell unceasingly from his mouth. He was proud of his wife, that was clear--he showed her off, asking our opinion of her, giving us to understand that she was as good as she appeared.

I must say that she was well worth his praise, in looks at any rate; her other good qualities we discovered later.

She was unmistakably an Indian woman: her colour was warm brown, she had beautiful eyes, and a very amiable expression. Her hair was her pride: it was not straight and coa.r.s.e--it waved, even curled some little, and glistened in the sun as if it were black spun gla.s.s.

We took to her at once: she appeared to be of a bright and happy disposition, and not an atom like our preconceived notions of a squaw.

Meade subsequently made a sketch of her in her ordinary dress.

But what charmed us greatly was, she could speak English quite understandably, and when she informed us that she was "one Metlakahtla gal," and had been trained under the eye of good Mr Duncan, we felt we were fortunate to have her with us, and we never ceased to impress on Jim what a lucky dog he was. He seemed to think so himself--at least Fan said he did. They put up a little canvas tepee, or wigwam, near.

They had brought it with them on their sled, with their entire household gear, which was not much. It consisted mostly of dried salmon which was to be their food. We added some of ours to it occasionally, and later when we killed game we shared it with them.

Fan cooked for us, and we believed she religiously refrained from pilfering our food. She had certainly been well trained.